Forgiveness
by Ashbadash
Summary: Originally an english essay. What would have happend is Hassan never died? one-shot


**This was originally an english assignment i did a few years ago. Enjoy! :**

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It's funny how things change over time, people grow older and things you thought would happen never do

Its funny how things change over time, people grow older and things you thought would happen never do. They say time heals all wounds, believe me when I say this isn't true. A lot of time has passed, years even, and my mental wounds still feel freshly cut and bleeding a slow steady stream of my soul. I had many regrets and even more questionable decisions. Every time I saw the young vibrant face of Sohrab I was reminded of his father, and the decisions I made to cause such a young person such pain in life.

Ever since that day in the park something in Sohrab had changed. He seemed somewhat happier now, though still not what you'd call a picture of youth. But he was talking and smiling; he helped me around the house and was kind to Soraya. She still home schooled him but he got out and played with the neighbors and he seemed to enjoy himself when Soraya and I took him to the cinema. He was even showing a little interest in his English lessons with Soraya.

I was sitting in the living room pretending to read while really I was watching them. I chuckled as I watched them. She was trying to explain irregular verbs to him, I could tell he was trying his best to pay attention, but every now and then he would look out the window, his eyes would glaze over and the tapping of his pen would fade to a dull tap…tap…tap…

"I'm going to head over to Barns-N-Nobles; the book I ordered should be in." I said to Soraya.

"Okay, and while your out can you check on the surprise?" Soraya replied in English. I nodded and headed for the door. Since Sohrab had been behaving very well lately Soraya and I had decided to get him a puppy, so he could have one true friend in this world.

"I hate it when you guys talk in English." Sohrab mumbled. I chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

"I'll be back in an hour."

I grabbed my car keys off the little table by the door and walked to my car. I was reaching for the handle when I noticed a car parked in front of my neighbors house, which I knew wasn't his. Cautiously I walked up to it and tapped on the window. The window rolled down revealing an Arab looking man holding a map.

"Can I help you?" I politely asked him. He stepped out of the car and now stood in front me. I noticed that he was a good 3 inches taller than me and much thinner. He had big piercing eyes, eyes so familiar…

"Actually yes, I'm looking for Amir's house, I'm not sure which one is his…" he trailed off. I was taken aback, who was this man and why was he looking for me, and speaking flawless English none the less. Then as if a massive wave crashed into me I remembered why those eyes were so familiar.

"Hassan?" I cried. I knew my voice was shaking because I could feel my body trembling.

"Amir!" He gasped. I was overcome with emotion, simply hearing him say my name caused me to fall to the ground weeping. Here standing in front of me was the man I thought to be dead, the man I would sell my soul to the devil for just one hour with him. Here he was standing in front of me and saying my name, and with a voice of love and compassion, none of which I deserved. It was too much for me to comprehend.

"Oh Amir!" Hassan cried, he flung himself down by my side and embraced me. "Amir I've been searching for you for many months, and now I've finally found you." I looked up to see tears were streaming down his face as well. We sat there for who knows how long sobbing, embracing each other. When I finally pulled my self together I looked at him and said,

"Hassan I don't believe it I thought you were dead! W-what are you doing here and how do you know English? I went back to Afghanistan looking for you and they said you died, along with your wife."

"That was my wife's brother, I was gone for the week and that was her brother who was killed." He had to stop here for a moment to compose himself.

"I came home and they were all dead." I stood up and pulled him up with me.

"Hassan, please, there's one thing I have to say." From the look in his eyes he knew what I was about to say.

"About that day all those years ago…when you were, when I didn't…I…' Tears were streaming down my face at full force.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered.

He smiled "Brother you were forgiven a long time ago."

I cannot even begin to describe the relief that filled me has I stood there gaping at his smiling face.

"Oh my it's been so long!" Hassan said. "I have so much I want to tell you, about my journey, my boy, Amir I had a son! He was killed in the war, but oh Amir you would have loved him." His eyes filled with pried and sadness.

I gasped, "Sohrab! Come with me!" I pulled him with me and sprinted towards my house. We burst through my front door and I searched frantically for Sohrab. He and Soraya were just as I had left them.

I glanced at Hassan as he left his eyes wander around the house, finally stopping on the table where his son sat. Hassan's eyes grew large and glossy.

"Sohrab," He gasped.

"Papa!" Then Sohrab was out of his chair running towards and colliding into him at full force. They embraced and I saw they both were crying.

I smiled a sad smile as I watched their reunion. Nothing is more powerful the love of a father and his son, as was quite apparent by their reunion.

Hassan clutched Sohrab to his chest mumbling in Arabic, and then he looked at me. I couldn't read his expression but his eyes were filed with gratitude.

"Thank you Amir," he whispered.

And I knew I was finally forgiven.


End file.
